


like a flowing river

by nanases_h



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Body Worship, Bottom Tachibana Makoto, Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hangover, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 21:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17495939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanases_h/pseuds/nanases_h
Summary: “Can you hear it, Haru? 100,000 people. They’re all singing to you… Because it’s true.”Makoto is the vocalist of a famous rock band in Japan. He takes a break from his hectic lifestyle to spend Christmas with his husband, Haruka.





	like a flowing river

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strawberry_swirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_swirl/gifts).



> here’s a smutty and super cheesy fic for [Kuro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_swirl/pseuds/strawberry_swirl) from the MakoHaru Secret Santa Exchange! they requested bottom Makoto, domestic activity, and celebrating Christmas at home with tea and cuddles ꒰˘̩̩̩⌣˘̩̩̩๑꒱♡
> 
> i may have borrowed some lines from the movie ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ because it’s awesome

Even after years of being together, Makoto’s voice was still Haruka’s favourite sound. It was silvery, if not a little gruff and breathy, as it blended with heavy panting that filled the bedroom.

“Haru… _Ah…_ ”

Haruka pressed light kisses on the back of Makoto’s neck while his other hand started pumping Makoto’s rigid cock. Underneath him, Makoto let out a long and pleasured sigh, his knees and his arms shaking.

He stiffened and arched his back when Haruka’s tongue traced the length of his spine, retracing Makoto’s sensitive spots that he knew so well.

Wanting to hear Makoto’s voice more, Haruka thrusted deeper into him. His husband moaned louder, crumpling the sheets into his fists. He could imagine his flushed face buried in the pillow.

“Don’t stop… _oh…_ Please don’t stop—!”

Makoto moved with him, keeping up with his rhythm. He reached behind him to grab Haruka’s ass, to push him further into him.  

Feeling his headache dissipate a little, Haruka closed his eyes and rolled his hips to find Makoto’s sweet spot, wanting to hear him begging for more.  

When they woke up this morning, they were hungover from last night’s Christmas party. While it was a normal occurrence for the married couple to wake up draped around each other, they were surprised to find themselves surrounded by tree ribbons and garlands, and wearing nothing except for Christmas stockings with treats and trinkets still in them.

Haruka and Makoto spent Christmas Eve with their found family in Tokyo— Makoto’s rock band, Pool-Length Underwater. Their parties were known for being fun and wild, and they ended up wasted as usual. The main culprit was Kirishima Natsuya, the band manager, who kept shoving cocktail glasses to everyone while he roared with laughter and told hilarious stories with slurred speech.

Haruka couldn’t really remember much from last night, but it looked like he and Makoto had a good time in their bedroom, the afterparty, seeing the love bites on Makoto’s neck.

Instead of lamenting over their headaches, they threw all the Christmas decorations on the floor and tried to ease their hangover the way they usually did. From spooning, they let their hands wander each other’s skin, touching and spreading warmth, kissing until it turned to foreplay.

Haruka had started leaving stray kisses all over Makoto’s body, mapping out the moles and freckles across his skin, marking and licking and teasing every one of them with his tongue. It was a game he started since they got past the awkward stage of their relationship, when they were trying and learning to be comfortable with each other in bed, and they both loved it.

When Haruka grazed his fingers down Makoto’s flat stomach, giving Makoto a teasing look as he felt the muscles clench, Makoto couldn’t help but give in. He made a low noise in his throat as he lifted his hips, rubbing their cocks together. _I want you, Haru._

“I-I’m so close— Haru!”

After another thrust, Haruka turned Makoto over gently so he was lying on his back. He wanted to admire him before he finished. He wanted to see the blush across his lovely face, his changing expressions— the way he wrinkled his nose, how his eyebrows knit together, how his mouth opened and let out indulgent sighs and moans.

Makoto closed his fists around Haruka’s hair and gave him an open mouthed kiss. Haruka deepened it, pushing his tongue inside Makoto’s mouth. They laughed at their clumsiness, foreheads bumping, teeth clashing, spit all over their faces. Hungover sex had always been sloppy and graceless, but they were all part of the fun.

Haruka smiled and pushed back the hair from Makoto’s forehead. Hanging his lover’s leg over his shoulder, he filled him up faster and harder.

It didn’t take long until he could feel the rush of blood in between his legs. “Makoto… _Makoto…_ “

“Haru!” Makoto called back, wraps his arms tight around Haruka.

As he moved in time with him, his breaths had become more shallow, his face crumpling. His nails bit into Haruka’s back as if to anchor himself. And then, he threw his head back to the pillows, his back in a graceful arch, when he reached orgasm.

Haruka came soon after, moaning louder and thrusting deeper into Makoto, crying out his name. He breathed heavily, waiting for the rush to pass, and collapsed next to Makoto.

He gazed at Makoto’s face. It was sweaty and flushed, and there was a wide smile across it. He pecked Makoto on the lips before closing his eyes.

They lay side by side, sharing a quiet moment of the aftermath. Haruka ran his fingertips across the fresh love bites across Makoto’s neck until they reached the side of his face, admiring the bleak winter light falling upon it.

Makoto latched an arm around his waist, green eyes searching Haruka’s face.

“We have to clean up,” said Haruka.

Makoto groaned and fastened his legs around his husband. “No.”

_“Makoto.”_

Makoto pouted but let him go.

After cleaning themselves with a wet washcloth, Haruka returned to bed and pulled the comforter over his shoulder.  

“Spoon me?”

Makoto smiled. “Okay.”

Haruka lay on his side and welcomed his favourite feeling in the world— being surrounded by Makoto’s warmth, their legs tangling together, those strong, familiar arms embracing him. Their bodies fitting perfectly. He could feel sleep embracing him already.

It had been a while since he and Makoto spent mornings together like this. Being the vocalist of a famous rock band in Japan, Makoto had been working nonstop with tours and live performances, which had increased ever since releasing a new album. And because of this, he had cleared his schedule to make sure he could spend the Christmas holidays with his husband. _There’s no place like home,_ he said.

Despite having a low-profile career, Haruka also led a hectic life at work as the head chef in one of Tokyo’s top restaurants. He worked long hours making edible masterpieces and impressing food critics. By the time he was home, he only wanted to lie in bed and listen to his husband talk about his day.

When they first met in college, they used to have mind-blowing sex all the time. Learning how their bodies fit together, how their bodies reacted to each touch and caress. And when they got married, they got too excited about spending the rest of their lives together— they felt like they had to live every moment of every day tangled into each other.

But for what it was worth, spending time apart only made them more passionate for each other. When Makoto was on tour, they would message each other the entire day. Makoto would call Haruka every night, falling asleep to the sound of his voice, whispering _I miss you_ and _I wish you were here_.

And they would make it up once they reunited. They would kiss in the hallway and tear each other’s clothes. One would slam the other against the wall for heated sex, and it would go on in kitchen or in the bedroom, all day and all night until their skins were covered with scratches, their bodies bruised and aching, and all they could do was laugh and hold each other, thinking about what they had done.

Haruka was happy and contented at the amount of attention Makoto had given him during his holiday break. He would savour every moment, every chance to have his husband all to himself.

Makoto tugged him closer, burying his nose on his neck, his warm breath sending goosebumps across Haruka’s skin.   

Haruka stroked Makoto’s arm and looked outside the window. Snow was falling, tiny flakes blanketing the city. It was the last thing he saw before closing his eyes.

* * *

They woke up an hour later, still draped into each other.

Haruka tugged at Makoto’s arm that was wrapped around his waist. Blinking, he turned to his husband. “Tea?”

Makoto hummed and pressed a kiss on Haruka’s lips.

Body still heavy with sleep, Haruka slowly swung his legs across the bed and slipped on a pair of tiny boxer shorts and one of Makoto’s old baggy shirts. It was loose and it hung over his lithe form, but it was very comfortable.  

After a few minutes, he returned to their bedroom with two mugs of chamomile tea. He joined Makoto and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed.

“Thank you, Haru-chan,” said Makoto with a wide grin.

Haruka made a low noise in protest of his pet name and sipped his tea. He was already feeling better than when he first woke up this morning, the haziness gone after his and Makoto’s amazing time in bed together.

Makoto pulled him close, encircling an arm around his shoulders, as Haruka took the remote control and flipped through the TV channels. He stopped clicking when he found the music channel.

“Oh look, it’s you,” said Haruka with a teasing grin, rubbing his cold toes against Makoto’s foot.

Makoto blushed. It was his band’s live performance during a music festival last summer. It was said to be one of the biggest music events in Japan, and they headlined it.

Every time Haruka saw Makoto perform on stage, his chest would swell with pride and joy. Through the years, he had seen Makoto grow from this shy and awkward college student to a well-known musician who performed in front of hundreds and thousands of people. He was overjoyed to see Makoto doing something he loved, to see Makoto doing something for himself because he was so used to putting other people before himself.

Haruka loved seeing the way Makoto shone on stage. He was a natural— he would smile and charm his audience, giving his one hundred percent in every performance. The way he communicated with his audience was the same, as if he was a close friend talking to each of them, whether in an intimate setting or in an arena. Whenever he stood on stage, the whole stadium belonged to him.

Another song played: an ethereal, stripped-down acoustic piece that was a detour from the loud, adrenaline-pumping songs their band normally produced.

Thrill rippled within Haruka as the crowd roared, recognising the first few notes. Makoto smiled with awe and amusement while he continued plucking the mellow rhythm on his guitar, making Haruka’s heart clench. The tinkling notes immediately brought him back to their quiet afternoons sitting together by the piano, when the song was only a handful of chords that Makoto played on repeat, followed by his gentle humming. Haruka had closed his eyes and let the music pour into his ears. _It sounds like a flowing river,_ he said when Makoto asked what he thought of the song.

After a momentary pause, Makoto sang, his voice soft but clear. The audience sang along, knowing every word of the verse, and waved their arms in the air.  

It was one of the many songs Makoto composed for Haruka. Makoto’s compositions were delightfully riddled with references to him:

His lover with ocean eyes.

His festival fireworks.

His spring time after a harsh winter.  

His eternal summer.  

Even though the lyrics were intimate, once shared to the public, they became their songs as well. Thousands of people claimed to relate to them on a personal level, making them the band’s most popular and beloved songs.

Onscreen, Makoto pointed his microphone to the multitude of people in front of him, letting them finish the lyrics as one voice:

_because you are_

_the calm to my storm_

_oh it’s you…_

“Can you hear it, Haru?” asked Makoto, pulling Haruka back to the present. He clung closer to him, his breath touching Haruka’s skin. “100,000 people. They’re all singing to you… Because it’s true.”

Heat rose up Haruka’s cheeks and creeped up to the tips of his ears. He kicked his shin playfully. “You’re so cheesy, Tachibana.”

“But you like it,” replied Makoto, grinning. “Otherwise you won’t be Mr. Tachibana.”

“Shut up.”  

“Make me.”

Haruka squinted and framed Makoto’s face in his hands. He squeezed his cheeks until his lips looked like fish lips before smiling and diving in for a deep kiss.

The song ended as they broke away, heaving for air. The crowd cheered louder when onscreen-Makoto blew them a kiss.

Silence lingered for a second as the screen turned black.

Makoto sighed and took Haruka’s hand, playing with his ring finger. “I’m sorry we have to stay here in Tokyo. I promise I’ll take you on a proper holiday next time,” he said. “Maybe next year, we can visit Australia so we can spend Christmas on the beach? Or in Maldives? Natsuya said it’s really pretty there. O-Or in Italy—"

Haruka laced his arms around Makoto’s shoulders and touched the soft hair on the back of his neck.

“Makoto,” he said, locking their eyes together. “It’s okay. I’ll spend it anywhere with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> i told u it’s cheesy af. now i shall go back to writing endless angst and suffering lol (i may or may not be working on a multi-chaptered fic right now). i hope you enjoyed this cheesiness nevertheless. please leave a comment if you did. i love hearing from you guys! ^u^
> 
> you can also find me on [Tumblr](http://nanases-h.tumblr.com) <3


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